


Consequences

by raggedyfangirl666



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A LOT OF STYDIA, Angst, Eichen | Echo House, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt Lydia, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Loss of Control, Post 5B, Post-Eichen, Protective Stiles, Started canon but is slightly developing into something way cooler?, Worried Stiles Stilinski, lots of guilt, pre 6a, srsly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-12-14 11:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11782299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raggedyfangirl666/pseuds/raggedyfangirl666
Summary: When Lydia starts losing control of her powers, they all think it is due to Vallack's experiments, but what if that is not it? What if it's not just Lydia? How is the pack going to deal with this new threat?Mostly Stydia.Tumblr prompt: Can we have a fic where Lydia can’t control her powers. Kind of like Kira this season.(also posted on tumblr)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Before you start Reading, I just want to say a. No, this is not going to be a super lengthy fic, probably just a few chapters and b. I am totally making this up as I go, so I hope to update soon but I make no promises… hope you like it :D
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters are not my own. I am only using them to fill some of the holes the show has left in my heart.

The first time it happened they had been at Lydia’s house studying for their senior year’s mid-terms. They had fallen asleep; her on the bed and him on a chair next to it, books and notes surrounding both of them. 

It was three in the morning when Stiles woke up from a nightmare only to realize that the girl wasn’t in the room with him. He got up and walked downstairs to the kitchen, but there was no one there either.

“Lydia?” He called out loud. Natalie Martin was out of town, so he didn’t have to worry about waking her up. “Lydia, where are you?”

He looked through the window, but both his jeep and her car were still parked in the driveway. After searching around the house a bit more, he concluded that she was not inside and her cell phone was still on her bedside table. His breathing was already unsteady as he dialed his best friend, who answered half asleep.

“Scott, I can’t find Lydia, she is not at her house and I am afraid that she wandered off…” He was cut off by a scream that made the floor shake and the lights flicker. Stiles almost dropped the phone before running outside, his conversation with the werewolf forgotten.

“Lydia!?” He called out once more, spotting a flash of red hair a few houses down.

Stiles rushed to her side, kneeling beside the unconscious girl on the ground. He touched her forehead and shuddered at the coldness of her skin. And was it the lack of light or his anxiety taking over or were her lips starting to gain a bluish hue? The boy took off his flannel shirt and wrapped her up with it, carrying her to the jeep. Heat at its max, they reached the hospital in what had to be a record.

Melissa was already waiting for them, thanks to a call from Scott who had been still on the line when Stiles grabbed his phone to let him know that he had found Lydia. A few nurses wrapped the girl up in blankets, checked her vitals and took her to a room. The boy followed them and luckily didn’t have to wait long until they reassured him that the banshee would be fine. Melissa considered telling the boy to go home, but she knew that it would be to no avail.

Stiles sat down next to the redhead, taking comfort in the fact that her hand, which he had no intention of letting go, was a bit warmer and her skin wasn’t as pale anymore. She sure would have a serious cold the next couple of days, but if he hadn’t found her… if he hadn’t been there… Shaking his head, Stiles scolded himself for thinking that way. 

She was fine.

Lydia moaned softly and slowly opened her eyes, blinking at the brightness of the room. No one had turned off the lights.

“Hey.” The boy said quietly. “How are you feeling?”

“Stiles?” Asked the girl, confused. She tried to sit up but Stiles put a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from doing so. “What is going on?”

Stiles frowned. “You don’t remember anything?”

Lydia shook her head. 

“I found you outside of your house, unconscious.” He told her, unsuccessfully attempting to hide the panic in his tone. “You were freezing cold. I imagined that you had had a banshee premonition or something.”

The girl stared at him for a while, trying to concentrate. “I… I don’t think so. I can’t remember anything, just you and me studying and then… I suppose I fell asleep.” After a pause her eyes softened. “You brought me here, thank you.”

Stiles smiled at her and squeezed her hand a little, although he was profoundly concerned. What the hell had happened? He stayed with her until she was discharged from the hospital the next day. Lydia had tried to at least get him to go home to get a little sleep, but the boy didn't budge. The banshee was secretly relieved for that.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few days went on as normal. The next incident didn’t occur until the following week, when, in Geography, Stiles got a text from Scott: 

Mumbling an excuse, the boy pretty much ran out of class. Scott was waiting for him, ready to explain in more detail what had happened.

“We were with Miss Lewis. Lydia told me that she had a headache so I offered to walk her here with the nurse, but she said that it was fine, that she just needed to go to the bathroom and freshen up. She fainted right after going through the door. I smelled blood so I freaked out, thinking she had hit her head or something… as it turns out she had only bitten her lip, luckily. The nurse says she is fine, that it must have been low pressure, but…”

Stiles didn’t need for his best friend to finish what they were both thinking. Something was wrong with Lydia.

Natalie Martin arrived then, ushering the boys to their classrooms. She promised to take Lydia home to rest and then to a hospital for some blood analysis and scans. Still, for the rest of the day Stiles couldn’t concentrate on anything else apart from the banshee and spent the whole time texting the redheaded.

~Hey~

~You alright?~

~Lyds?~

~Text me when you wake up~

At lunch he decided to skip last period. He wanted to go straight to the Martin’s household but he knew that Natalie would just send him back to school, so he opted for Deaton’s veterinary instead. The man didn’t question the teenager that came through the door unannounced. Even without Scott’s call, Deaton always seemed unsurprised when any of the pack suddenly showed up. Stiles betted that even if he appeared in the middle of the night, the man would be waiting for him with a cup of coffee and a lecture ready about whatever he needed to know . It was kind of creepy, but also too helpful to complain about.

“I don’t know what is going on with Lydia.” Was the first thing Deaton said and Stiles face fell instantly. “However, I can imagine it has something to do with her stay in Eichen House.”

“But that was over two months ago.” The boy was confused, his guard slightly higher at the mention of the mental hospital.

“I was afraid this would happen. What Vallack did… the mistletoe should have reversed part of the damage, it should have helped her to relatively put her powers back under control. You are in the middle of exams right? College applications? The stress could have unconsciously caused her sway over the voices and the visions to waver.”

“But it is temporal, right? She just need to relax and everything will be fine.”

Deaton sighed, not entirely convinced. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Look, Stiles. Even if the hole in her head isn’t there anymore, the consequences of what Vallack attempted to do won’t just go away. Ever. Lydia’s powers were augmented too much in too little time… that is not something you can just undo. I can talk to her, teach her meditation and concentration techniques, but knowing her, she probably has already thought of all that.”

“So you are saying there is nothing we can do.” Despite Stiles knowing that the situation was, in no way, Deaton’s fault, he couldn’t keep the bitterness away from his tone.

“I will keep researching, looking for something. In the meantime, you do as you said: keep her from stressing too much. She needs to be calm.” 

The man didn’t need to say what else he was thinking; the warning in his voice was enough for Stiles to understand. Otherwise, we might lose her and this time there won’t be any mistletoe to save her.

Defeated, the boy went back to his jeep.

~Need to talk to you~ He sent to the redheaded. ~Now~ 

Less than a minute later, barely after he had turned the ignition on, he got an answer:

~Me too. Something’s really wrong. Come to my house.~


	2. Chapter 2

He was at her door, nervously tapping his fingers against the frame as he waited for someone to open. That someone ended up being Natalie Martin, who didn’t look too happy about the boy skipping school but let him in nevertheless.

“She’s in her room.”

Stiles nodded and went upstairs. Lydia was indeed waiting in her room, sitting at her desk with an open book in front of her. He couldn’t see the title from where he was standing, but the pictures told him that it wasn’t about Chemistry or Arithmetic. Sketched in black and white there was a woman on her knees, mouth and eyes wide open, hands at the sides of her head. The drawing didn’t require colours to express despair.

 “You should be resting” Said Stiles. He didn’t even know if the banshee had heard him come in.

 Lydia turned around with a frown on her face and her lips puckered. She murmured “hi” and something along the lines of “I couldn’t sleep.”

 Finding a place to sit on the edge of the bed, close to her but yet maintaining his distance, Stiles asked what he had been wondering all noon.

 “Is it… like the last time?”

 Lydia averted her eyes to the window.

 “Yes… it’s the same. I am not entirely sure what happened or how or why.” Her insecurity broke Stiles’ heart. The fear and frustration in her voice drove him to reach out for her hand. She accepted it gladly and tried to draw strength from his grip.

“Scott said your head started hurting?” He tried to keep his voice calm while prompting her to keep talking.

“Yes. It began with this piercing headache and then everything around me became… dull. The noises weren’t right and my vision kept swimming in and out of focus. And the burning… my chest and my throat were on fire…”

“A scream.” Stiles finished for her. “A banshee scream.”

Lydia nodded slowly and continued.

“But it didn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. And it was so sudden… I don’t think I have ever felt that way.”

“I went to talk to Deaton today.” Admitted the boy, clearing his throat and telling her everything that Scott’s boss had explained him. Lydia didn’t make any comments, just limited herself to staring at him and nodding in comprehension.

“That makes sense. I was suspecting the same, that’s why I grabbed this…” She agreed, gesturing to the book still open over her desk. “The question is, if Deaton is right and the issue is my powers getting out of control… How do we fix it?”

Stiles gave the banshee’s hand a light squeeze, internally smiling at her choice of words. How do we fix it. We. However, the warmth spreading over his chest at her trust in him, in their ability to solve problems together, was accompanied by another feeling, equally strong.

Lydia had ended up unconscious on the street, freezing, and then she had been really close to banging her head open at school. He hadn’t noticed it the week before, but on his way to the Martin’s household he saw the house in front of which the girl had passed out that first night. Its windows were covered with plastic and tape, glass completely shattered. If she had gotten hurt…

Lydia observed her friend, how his expression changed in rhythm with his thoughts. She saw the softness in his eyes when he looked at her and the sorrow that weighted down on his shoulders when his gaze drifted towards the place in her head where her wound was still finishing healing. Staring at him was wonderful. With Jackson and Aidan and practically every other boy she had ever been with, she could hardly see past their lust or their anger or any other basic emotion or desire they had, but Stiles… maybe it was the fact that the boy wasn’t good at hiding his feelings or maybe it was because she knew him, at times, better than she knew herself. Whatever it was, when his frown relaxed but his hands clenched into fists, she predicted the sigh that would leave Stiles’ lips when he came up with an, in all likelihood, useless and obvious answer to their problem.

“For now you rest. Exams are almost over. Try to relax, get some sleep. Go to the hospital with your mum. I don’t think anything will come up in those scans but just to be sure...”

“Okay.”

“I need to go and fill Scott and Malia in, but if you need anything –and I mean anything at all- you let me know, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll tell you if something happens.” They kept on staring at each other for a while longer, both reluctant to let go of their still linked hands. “Thanks for everything.”  
He offered her a small smile and got up. “Anything, alright?”

Lydia rolled her eyes at his insistence and concern, but when she answered her tone was soft and grateful.

“I promise.”

With a final smile he left and Lydia went back to her book.

It wasn’t just concern for her own safety what was eating at her insides. She was a danger to others as well and she knew that Stiles was aware of that. The image of how badly his left ear was bleeding when they rescued her from Eichen came to her mind uninvited, followed by Vallack… his head… the blood. Lydia squeezed her eyes shut and tried to regain control of her breathing. She had done that. She and her lack of control and the idiot of Vallack, who was dead, just like Stiles and Scott and everyone else could have been, had she screamed. She didn’t want to go back to that pain…

A knock on her door.

“Lydia, honey, are you ready to go to the hospital?”

Checking her reflection in her vanity and wiping away a few tears that had made their way across her cheeks, she answered.

“Sure, just let me grab my coat.”

She marked a page in her book and closed it, then met her mum at the entrance door.

“I thought you didn’t like that one anymore” Said Natalie pointing at her green overcoat.

“I didn’t realize I had grabbed this one.” Although true, the banshee had to feign the unconcern in her words.

Indeed she did not like that coat, not at all. It brought her back to the time she found the body in the pool, a memory she was always trying to keep away from her mind. It was stupid. She always reprimanded herself for refusing to wear such a pretty and expensive coat, but the piece of clothing hadn’t left her closet ever since that night, after Stiles had accompanied her home. They had overcome so many threats, changed so much since then and still some things remained the same, especially in what concerned the nature of her powers and their potential, forever bound to be a secret.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is basically fluff. I didn’t intend it to be this way, it just happened and it was so fun writing it, forgetting I had ever written it (ups!) and finally reading it again.

Lydia focused on her breathing. It was Saturday and her head hadn’t hurt her for a few days. In fact, there hadn’t been any signs of her powers not being under her complete control.

Control.

C.

O.

N.

T.

R.

O.

L.

Synonym of sway, authority, domination and rule. The power to influence the course of events. A noun and a verb. So hard to obtain yet so easy to lose.

Lydia held the air in her lungs. 1. 2. 3. Exhaled. 1. 2. 3. Waited. 1. 2. 3. Inhaled again. 1. 2. 3.

Exams were over and she knew she had aced all of them. No need worrying about it anymore. Winter break was nearby and she already had plans with her mum for a weekend in a spa. No monsters, no calls in the middle of the night to follow some lead or another, no homework, no…

The banshee frowned, eyes still closed, when her phone started ringing. Sighing, she grabbed it and looked at the name on the screen. It was Stiles. Of course it was Stiles. Ever since the second incident the boy checked on her constantly. Not that she minded, not really. She could do her breathing exercises later.

“Hey, Stiles”

“Hey, Lyds. How are you feeling?”

“Good. Nothing out of the ordinary these past few days.”

“Great.” She could almost picture his relieved smile. “Hey, we are doing movie night with Scott at his house, wanna come? I think Malia and Liam are coming too. We thought it would be a nice way of celebrating the beginning of winter break.”

“Sounds good, at what time?”

“At eight… oh, hold on… oh shi-” A hustle in the background and a voice that Lydia guessed was Melissa screaming ‘What the hell are you doing?!’ interrupted their conversation briefly. “I have to go, see you tonight.”

“Wait, what is going on there?” Lydia’s question was received by the beeping of and ended call. Deciding not to worry, the banshee left her phone back on her nightstand, returning to her sitting position against her bed. How was she supposed to go back to focusing on her breathing now?

Lydia was at the McCall’s front step at seven fifty-five, purse on one arm and a bag of different types of candy in the other. Scott answered the door before she ringed the bell, a perk of his supernatural hearing. Liam then approached her to help her with the candy –although helping wasn’t on the mind of the teenager as much as making sure that the sweets were under his control. Hayden was by his side, nudging him with her elbow for not even saying hello.

“Come to the kitchen, we were just making popcorn with Stiles.” Scott told Lydia.

“You left Stiles alone with the popcorn and fire?” Inquired the banshee, raising an eyebrow and half-smiling.

“With the microwave, actually.” Said the werewolf, matter-of-factly. “However, we _should_ hurry, just in case.”

Lydia laughed and followed him to the kitchen, where the other boy was pulling bowls out of one of the cupboards and –poorly– balancing them in one of his hands.

“You know, I have a really strong urge to push you right now.” Commented Scott, to which his best friend replied with a sarcastic laugh.

“You do that and you will be eating your popcorn out of the floor.” Stiles shot back before noticing the redhead and giving her a big grin. “Hey, Lyds.”

Lydia smiled back, not so much a response but a reflex. She couldn’t help it, especially with him looking at her like that. How was it that she felt calmer while her heart had begun racing?

“Hi, Stiles.”

“Malia is here, I am going to open the door.” Said Scott and glared at Stiles. “Please, Lydia, watch that the popcorn doesn’t get burned. Again.”

“Really appreciate the trust, man.” Called out Stiles, but couldn’t sustain his offended façade.

“Again?” Asked the banshee, containing a laugh.

“Yeah, we might have almost set the kitchen on fire this afternoon trying to make popcorn using the stove.”

This time Lydia did snort, unable to hide her amusement any longer. She stepped closer to the microwave, just in case.

“And why do I have the feeling that it was your fault?” Further inquired the girl.

“Because I got bored of watching over the stove and got distracted when I called you to check up on how you were doing?” He said apologetically. “So if you really think about it, in part it was your fault too.”

So _that_ was what the fuss was about earlier when they talked.

 “ _I_ was peacefully meditating at home.” She playfully rolled her eyes at him. “I had nothing to do with it.”

The microwave went off then and Lydia carefully took the bowl of popcorn out. She laid it on the countertop, next to a bowl of chips Stiles had just prepared. They were close now. A few steps and Lydia was sure he would be able to hear her heart pounding. Funny how clichéd and unrealistic that last phrase sounded until you were in that very same situation.

“So what movie are we watching?” Said the banshee, popping popcorn into her mouth, not wanting to step back but also trying to ease the sudden electricity between them. It made her stomach twist with a sensation she couldn’t quite place, but that wasn’t at all unpleasant.

“I wanted to go with Star Wars but Hayden convinced Liam to vote for some comedy and Scott went with it just to take revenge because of the kitchen incident.”

“Such a shame.” She said and sighed dramatically.

“Hey! I know you would like Star Wars if you gave it a chance. Anyone would.” He pointed an accusing finger at her and pouted.

He was right, Lydia knew. She had once seen one of the original movies out of curiosity and didn’t think it was bad at all. Not that she would ever confess that. Instead of responding, she grabbed the two bowls of food and headed to the living room, where she settled the snacks on the coffee table and herself on the larger couch next to Scott. Liam and Hayden were half lying on the floor, chatting surrounded by cushions. Lastly, Malia was on an individual couch, on Scott’s left. Lydia smiled at her and said a little ‘Hi’. The were-coyote did the same in response but with her mouth already full of chips.

“Stiles! We are all set, you are going to miss the beginning of the movie!” Screamed Scott and immediately his best friend entered the room, sitting on the empty spot next to Lydia.

“Fine, fine.” Said the boy. “Not that it is Star Wars anyways, but… oh, hey Malia.”

“Alright everybody quiet now.” The Alpha shushed everyone. “Hayden, put play.”

The movie wasn’t bad at all –or at least it wasn’t bad enough to be the reason for Lydia falling asleep half-way through. However, the banshee did start to feel her lids getting heavy twenty minutes in. By the forty-minute mark, her head was lying comfortable on top of Stiles right shoulder. The boy, although at first surprised by the closeness, draped an arm around her back and pulled a light blanket over her legs and torso. They spent the rest of the movie like that: she sleeping curled up against him and he making sure that she was comfortable and warm –while purposely ignoring Scott’s smirk.

Everything was peaceful at the McCall’s household for a while… at least until the credits finished rolling.


	4. Chapter 4

She was sitting on an empty hallway. The walls were grey and the ceiling low, pipes ran on the sides, carrying the sound of water.

Since when was her hearing so sharp?

She paid a little more of attention. She was wrong, it wasn’t water, it was…

Whispers.

They were getting louder and louder. She tried covering her ears, confused and afraid, yet she couldn’t muffle out the noise.

“What is happening?” She asked the voices and empty hallway. “What do you want from me?”

Her entire body was shaking. In the distance, a scream made the floor tremble.

“I can’t understand you!” She now screamed. “What is it?!”

The hands covering her ears felt sticky now, and when she lowered them, and saw that they were covered in blood, she released a scream of her own.

Suddenly, the rough concrete against her back was replaced by something much softer. There was something grabbing her shoulders. She didn’t dare open her eyes. The whispers were still there, surrounding her. She wanted them to stop, so she screamed again. The pressure on her shoulders disappeared. Everything went quiet.

_Air_. She needed air.

Opening her eyes, Lydia quickly made it out the door of the McCall’s house, without really realizing yet where she was. She half-sat, half-collapsed on the ground and tried to recollect her thoughts. All she could hear was pitting in her ear, but at least her mind started clearing. A few seconds passed and as she was just starting to make sense of what had happened, a hand touched her back. The banshee recoiled from the feeling, turning around scared. It was Stiles, who quickly held his hands up in the air. At his back, Scott and Malia had also come out, all looking extremely worried.

The boy in front of her was saying something, although she barely could make out the words. Everything was happening in such a weird pace that she wasn’t sure if she was truly awake.

“Lyds, are you alright?” It came to her in a muffled voice, somehow out of synchrony with the moving lips of her friend. “Hey, Lydia.”

She hugged him, trying to stop the world around her from spinning, clinging to the familiarity of his smell and his arms. She could feel him stroking her hair, mumbling stuff to calm her down. Once he deemed that she was well enough to walk, he accompanied her back inside and sat her on the couch.

Lydia saw the boy sharing look with their other two friends before Malia and Scott left for the kitchen. Liam and Hayden were nowhere to be seen. The banshee closed her eyes a moment as the last bits of her thoughts went back to their places.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded slowly, keeping her eyes shut. She tried not to imagine the way his eyes were surely clouded with concern.

“A little beter.” She mumbled, voice slightly raw from her scream. “Are _you_ okay?”

She now examined him with her sight, head to toe, to make sure she hadn’t harmed him. He quietly grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“I am fine.” He said and added, guessing her thoughts. “We are all fine. Liam and Hayden had left already and for what I could see, Scott and Malia seemed okay.”

“I could have…” Her voice wavered. She breathed deeply and forced herself not to crumble. “I could have hurt you… killed you.”

“You didn’t.” Stiles quickly intervened and cupped her cheek with his free hand. “But I need to know what happened.”

“I had this… dream.” She started. “And there were these voices… I felt so confused and alone. I don’t even know what they were saying, but…” A chill ran through her spine and she had to look away from Stiles’ eyes for the last part. “It felt like the first moments after Vallack had begun with the… the trepanation.”

She felt the boy tense next to her, and when she finally looked at him, she could see fear plastered in his each one of his features. Soon she heard Scott’s voice, who had been hearing everything through the door.

“We have to go to Deaton. Now.”

Both of the teenagers on the couch nodded and Stiles grabbed the keys to his jeep from where they were lying on the coffee table. He then helped her get up and guided her to the car outside.


	5. Chapter 5

Deaton examined her head carefully and made her extensive questions about the last couple of weeks: Had there been anything in common between the incidents? Had anything in her routine changed lately? How was she eating? How was she sleeping? How often did she get the headaches, how long did they last and how much did they hurt? Was she stressed? Was she angry? Did her wound hurt? Did she have any other pains? And on and on he went. Lydia tried to answer with as much detail as she could.

Stiles and Malia sometimes piped in with questions of their own.

Scott remained quiet.

In the end, Deaton sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose before claiming that he still believed his previous theory: they were still suffering the consequences of what Vallack had done. No, he did not know what to do, and yes, things could get worse.

“How much worse?” Asked Scott gravely.

“Most probably, it will never be as bad as that night.”

Stiles exhaled softly at that.

“But it could still be dangerous… if a window breaks…” Said Lydia frowning.

“Honestly, the greatest danger is to yourself, Lydia. You should not be alone until we either find a solution or your body gets used to the new level of power.” The vet sounded tired, defeated.

“Do you really think this is something that can just… go away?” Inquired Stiles dubious.

“Not _just_. It will take time and effort, but nothing we can help with.” Deaton turned to the girl then. “I am sorry, Lydia, I wish there was more I could do.”

Lydia smiled softly and thanked him.

The group left, morale low.

“Is your mom home?” Asked Stiles once they were parked in front of Lydia’s doorstep. They had dropped Scott and Malia off at Scott’s.

“Yes, but next week she has a conference out of town.” The girl replied. “I am going to be fine, though, it is just a couple of days.”

“What? No, no way, you are not staying alone.”

Had it been any other situation, Lydia would have rolled her eyes and called him out for being overprotective. But it was not “any other situation” and she was not in the mood to argue so she simply said “okay” and “thanks” and slipped out of the Jeep.

Stiles fought the urge to follow her, to hold her, to tell her that everything would be fine.

He watched her enter her house without looking back, her back tense, hands shaking, head tipped forward, probably holding in tears.

He still didn’t move from his seat. He couldn’t. Anger and helplessness paralyzed him. He had to close his eyes and take several deep breaths before being able to drive home. His hands too were shaking.

Neither of them could sleep that night. Theories, memories and fear kept them awake.

When morning came, Lydia found herself in front of Stiles's doorstep.


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles jumped out of his thoughts when his dad told him to come downstairs quickly. Before he even reached the steps he heard the Sheriff moving around in the kitchen while talking to someone. He sounded concerned and Stiles understood why when he spotted the girl with strawberry blond pony tail and pink pyjamas sitting on a stool.

“Lydia?” He practically ran to her. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Are you hurt? Did you have another… incident?”

His dad eyed him curiously. Stiles had briefly mentioned what had been going on, but he didn’t have any real details.

Lydia shook her head and her hands found their way to the boy’s shoulders to keep him still.

“I’m fine.” She said briefly, not really knowing how to explain what she was doing at her friend’s house at six in the morning, in her sleepwear... and her hair… her rambling thoughts were interrupted by Stiles’ stare. He looked at her for several moments, not truly believing that what she had said was true. “Truly, Stiles, I am okay. No banshee stuff since Scott’s. I swear I am saying the truth.”

“Here you go, Lydia.” The Sheriff stepped between the teenagers to slip a cup of tea in front of the girl. He then looked pointedly at his son. “If everything is fine, I am off to work. Call me in case you need anything.”

Noah left the room and Lydia sipped her tea, examining the expression on her friend’s face. She could detect his confusion and concern and she thought of something to say to convince him that nothing bad had happened.

“Are you okay?” Stiles repeated, lowering his voice in spite of having the house for themselves. “You should be resting.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

He cocked an eyebrow, worried. She could swear that his gaze was able to see right through her, right at the things that she couldn’t bring herself to admit: _I can’t do this again, I am not strong enough, I am falling apart._

“Hey,” He said softly, raising a hand to wipe a tear with his thumb. She hadn’t realized she was crying. “It’s alright. It’s going to be fine.”

“No, you don’t know that.” Lydia suddenly rose from the stool and backed away a few steps. She angrily wiped away more tears. “All anybody knows is that anything can happen at any moment and that we can’t stop it. What if Deaton is wrong and things do get as bad as with Vallack? What if everything seems to be fine and then we go back to school and I hurt someone, Stiles?”

_What if I hurt you?_

What if, what if, what if… what if she went back to that metal table, half mad, but with no solution this time?

“That is not going to happen, Lydia.” Stiles voice was still firm. He tried to advance a few steps, but she retreated a few others.

“Why do you keep saying that?” She hit a wall. She was straight out sobbing now, and despite her desire to hide from the boy a few steps in front of her, she couldn’t. “How can you?”

The intensity of the emotions swirling inside of her frightened her more than anything else.

“Lydia,” His voice was so soft. “Lyds.”

She heard his throat closing up that second time and, through her tears, she saw how his eyes were also watering. He stepped closer, slowly, watching her reaction and giving her an opportunity to get away if she wanted to. Finally, he hugged her.

 _I know that you are falling apart,_ he seemed to be telling her. _But I am not going to let you fall apart alone._

In between fighting hunters and kanimas, it was easy to forget that they were children, kids who were often afraid and insecure and broken. Sometimes, the teens themselves felt like they were much older than they actually were. Other times, they felt impossibly young, except that they could not exactly count on their parents to comfort them in these occasions. The adults would not understand.

“I _know_ that everything is going to be fine,” Said Stiles hoarsely. “Because it _has_ to be. I can’t lose you.” He separated from her slightly to cup her face with his hands. “Okay?”

Lydia nodded, grabbing his wrists to keep him from moving his hands away. _Please don’t let go._

They stood like that for a while, looking at each other without saying anything. Closer than what was really appropriate for a pair of friends, they knew, yet they did nothing to change it. Lydia even let her eyes wander down to his lips. Stiles mimicked her. The air shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly.

Then the doorbell and someone's urgent knocking broke the silence.

"Stiles?!" It was Scott, he sounded agitated. "Open up, please, something is wrong with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so my initial plan was to do something short and sweet... But I couldn't just give this a bleh/open/vague ending so yep... this is definitely going to turn out being waaaay lengthier and more complex than I expected (If I can bring myself to finish it, of course).


End file.
